


According to Plan (Nothing, or Everything)

by WormwoodandAsphodel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, Gen, Minor Character Death, Snape family - Freeform, Snapshots, Teenage Severus Snape, Young Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 08:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17639306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WormwoodandAsphodel/pseuds/WormwoodandAsphodel
Summary: This was not the family any of them had wanted.A look at the Snape family over the years





	According to Plan (Nothing, or Everything)

It started off happily enough. 

 

If he'd once thought of her as plain, and a bit somber, well, it was only because he hadn't seen her smile. When she did, she seemed almost like a different person, and there was something... special... about her, something that made him think that she was the one he wanted for a wife. 

 

And him... She thought the world of him. He was handsome, and funny, and so utterly charming it made her dizzy. So what if he was a Muggle? For once, she didn't care if her parents didn't approve. She was on her own, and he really loved her, and she was happy. 

 

The house wasn't much, but it was theirs. What did it matter if they were eating two meals a day and sleeping on a baby mattress? What they lacked in material possessions, they more than made up for in love for each other. And it _was_ somewhat freeing to be out of the stranglehold of her mother and father, to be, for once, living her own life. 

 

 

*******

 

 

She'd never seen him shocked, really, truly shocked, before, not like he had been when she'd confessed that she was pregnant. 

 

She clutched the front of her dress, nervously twisting the fabric between her fingers. She wasn't sure how he'd take it. She knew they didn't have the money to raise a child, but now... a warm thrill ran through her each time she thought of the life she was carrying that was hers, theirs, and she couldn't help the hopefulness, the yearning. 

 

She took a breath. 

 

"I have to-" She stopped, started again. "There's something I have to tell you."

 

He looked up, saw her anxious face. Immediately, he went to her, and pulled her hands into his, and felt them shaking. 

 

"What is it? What's wrong?" He stared at her, starting to grow worried.

 

She shook her head, and tried to speak. 

 

"I- Nothing's wrong, it's just that I, that we..." She didn't look at him. "We're going to have a baby."

 

He didn't say anything at first. The silence stretched, and when she did look at his face, it was startled, like he didn't understand her words. He glanced from her face, to her belly, and back, seeming frozen. 

 

Then a laugh escaped him, and he was grinning and pulling her into his arms. 

 

"That's wonderful!" he cried. "A family, Eileen, can you believe it? We're going to have a family!"

 

And then she was wiping unexpected tears from her eyes and smiling, too. He kissed her, and then stepped back. 

 

"We're going to have a son, right? Can you tell?" he asked. 

 

She gaped at him, a bit incredulous. "Of course I can't tell! It could just as easily be a little girl."

 

But he didn't seem to hear. He was pacing up and down their small living room, breathlessly muttering. 

"I'll find extra work somehow, shouldn't be too hard, and we'll need the money for his food and clothes, I'm sure, and he'll have his own room, and oh, we'll have to make sure he can't crawl into the hearth and-"

 

"Tobias, slow down!" Eileen laughed. "He's not going to be born this minute."

 

"Right," said Tobias, pushing the hair away from his forehead. "Right, of course not."

 

 

*******

 

 

The house, tiny though it was, was spotless, and had been for some time. Without much else to do, Eileen had taken to polishing up the place, and it seemed to shine with all the love and effort she put into it. It would never be much, but for once, the place seemed cozy, like a real home that she could be proud of. 

 

She put away her wand and wrapped a handknitted blanket, her own work, around her shoulders. She eased herself into the threadbare armchair. It was a relatively new addition to their home, as was the cradle in the second bedroom. Thinking of that, Eileen put both arms around her very swollen belly and smiled. In a few short weeks, the crib would no longer be empty. In a few short weeks, she would meet her child. 

 

*****

 

Tobias came home just as she was dishing up a simple but tasty cabbage and potato soup. Eileen hastily checked that her wand was out of sight before turning to greet him. She embraced him best she could around her belly, and kissed him soundly. He'd been working so much lately, she felt like she hardly saw him anymore, but he was providing for their family, and she was glad. Besides, it made the times he was home even sweeter. 

 

After they had eaten, Tobias sat down heavily on the sofa, rubbing his hands over his face. Eileen joined him, and he turned to her. 

 

"Six more weeks, Eileen," he said tiredly but fondly. "Is there anything we're missing? I've gone over everything in my head, but there doesn't seem to be anything I've forgotten."

 

She gave him a wry smile. 

 

"Well," she began in a teasing tone. "I think it might be a bit inconsiderate of us not to give our child a name."

 

Tobias raised an eyebrow. "He ought to be named after his father, oughtn't he?"

 

"Not if we have a daughter." 

 

He snorted. "Of course not. If it's a girl, we name her after you." Seeing the face Eileen made, he quickly amended, "Or my mother. Mary is a fine name for a girl. Your name could be her middle."

 

Eileen thought it over for a moment before nodding. "If it is a boy, though, we can't really call him Tobias. There'll be confusion any time someone means to speak to either one of you."

 

"We can call 'im Toby, then," said Tobias. 

 

"Toby. I like that. And what of his middle name?"

 

"That can be up to you."

 

Eileen settled back against Tobias and pulled her feet up. "I had an uncle named Severus. I've always rather liked the name."

 

"Bit funny, innit?"

 

Eileen shrugged. "He told me it was the name of a great Roman emperor. I never was sure if that was true or not, but he _was_ my favorite uncle."

 

Tobias pulled Eileen closer and put both hands on her belly. The baby kicked, and they both smiled. 

 

"Tobias Severus Snape. Or Mary Eileen. We'll find out in six weeks."

 

 

*******

 

 

It wasn't so much that she wanted to keep things from him, or even that she didn't trust him. It was just habit. She'd grown up her whole life being told over and over to keep magic unknown to Muggles until it was ingrained in her person. Even after graduating Hogwarts, after getting married, she still knew she had to keep the secret. And Tobias _was_ a Muggle. 

 

He had come home earlier than usual, unbeknownst to Eileen, who had been upstairs when he arrived, fussing over the baby's room, cleaning imaginary dirt and making sure everything, sparse though it happened to be, was absolutely perfect. She knew Tobias would be home soon, and, once she determined the cradle was as straightened as it was going to get, the blanket placed just so, she made her way down to make a start on cooking. 

 

The fire in the hearth had reduced to embers, and she, as she had grown accustomed to doing during the long, cold, winter days, simply waved her wand and cast a fire-making charm. She heard Tobias inhale sharply from the kitchen doorway, and after a brief moment in which time froze, the reality of the situation caught up with her. With a growing sense of  apprehension, she turned to offer an explanation. 

 

"Tobias," she began before she caught sight of his face. Whatever she had been expecting from him, it wasn't a look of such terror, and then utter betrayal. The words died on her tongue, and she opened and closed her mouth desperately, but no sound came out. Then his expression turned hard, and angrier than anything she had seen before. She felt like she couldn't breathe. 

 

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked lowly. To his credit, he hadn't moved from his spot, even as his eyes flicked to Eileen's wand, which was now pointed in his direction. Belatedly, she lowered it with a jerky motion. 

 

"I didn't know you were home..." she said weakly.

 

"You do that all the time when I'm not here?" he shouted. "That... that..." 

 

"Magic," Eileen said softly. 

 

"Magic!" He scoffed, a bit hysterical. "You're a witch then? Don't you know how wrong that is?"

 

"It's not!" she protested. "It's part of who I am."

 

"It's a sin!" Tobias spat. 

 

She whimpered. "No."

 

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Eileen held her breath, and Tobias' stare bore into her, taking in her pleading, watery eyes, her white-knuckled fingers clutching her wand, the curve of her pregnant body...

 

Without warning, Tobias slammed his fist against the doorframe, hard enough to shake the whole building. She gasped and took a step back. 

 

"Damn you, Eileen!" he exploded. He looked miserable. "You lied to me."

 

She shook her head frantically. "I didn't."

 

"You didn't tell me!"

 

"I didn't lie-"

 

"Do you really think," he said, voice going cold, "that I would have married you if I had known?"

 

Eileen shut her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She wrapped her arms around herself. 

 

"I thought-" She swallowed thickly, bracing herself. "I thought you loved me." 

 

"How could I?" 

 

She flinched. 

 

Tobias looked her in the eye.

 

"If I had know what you do, what you are?" He shook his head and sneered. "No, Eileen, I can't. Not after this. I don't even know that I ever did. How can I know that you didn't use your magic, or whatever, to force me to feel that way?"

 

She looked horrified. "I didn't, I swear."

 

He believed her, but he shook his head. "It doesn't matter now."

 

Her mouth worked, and she was shaking. Tobias looked meaningfully at her wand. 

 

"You can do a lot more than light a fire with that," he stated, not phrasing it as a question. 

 

"Yes," she whispered. More loudly she said, "But I would never use magic to hurt you." And she meant it. With her whole being, she meant it. 

 

Tobias looked disgusted. 

 

"Get out of my sight," he said, before he turned and left the house, slamming the door behind him.  

 

Eileen sank to her knees, in the middle of the floor, wand falling to her side. Arms folded over her belly, she bowed her head, and sobbed. 

 

 

*******

 

 

Things were tense in the weeks after, right up until the baby was born. Eileen had hoped that the birth of the child, a son, just like Tobias had wanted, would ease things over, even a little bit. But as they stood in the baby's room, the crib a physical barrier between them, Tobias still wore the same brooding expression that hadn't left his face when she was near him. 

 

Eileen wrapped her little boy in a soft, dark blue knitted blanket -another that she had made herself- and settled him gently onto the mattress. He was already asleep, and she caressed his tiny face with infinite tenderness. 

 

"He looks just like you," she said quietly, not looking up from her son. 

 

"Yes," Tobias agreed tonelessly, eyes fixed on the infant as well. But a tiny part of him didn't want it to be true, didn't want to acknowledge that the child belonged to him. It would be easier that way, if he could claim an affair and wash his hands of her. But the boy was his. He had a son, a fact that his brain kept repeating over and over, with a little rush of joy each time. 

 

The child, Toby, began to squirm and whine, and as Tobias reached down to pick him up, Eileen felt a fierce surge of protectiveness. She watched her husband lift their son and settle him against his shoulder. The baby grew quiet, listening to his father's heartbeat.

 

Eileen stared at them, and finally spoke. 

 

"It's me you're angry with," she said firmly. "Not him, do you understand? Your problem is with me."

 

Tobias looked at her, hand carefully holding Toby's neck. 

 

"He's an infant, Eileen. _He_ has done nothing wrong."

 

_But you have_. 

 

He didn't say it. He didn't need to. 

 

Eileen prayed to every god she knew of that her son wouldn't turn out to be a wizard. 

 

 

*******

 

 

Tobias was rarely home. Even when he wasn't working, he'd stay out with his work buddies. Eileen would hear the squeak of the door hinges in the early morning, hear the groaning of the floor as Tobias crossed the living room, hear the creak of the sofa's springs as he dropped onto it. He was usually gone by the time she got up. 

 

She tried, very hard, not to let it bother her, but it stung, badly, that he was so desperate to avoid her. 

 

Eileen took care of Toby, and she didn't use magic a single time. It was fine at first, when Tobias was still around enough to pitch in, and gracious enough to let Eileen catch a few hours of sleep while he dealt with the crying, restless baby. 

 

But those days were all but over now. On occasion, Tobias would bring a friend over, someone he could show off his son to, while pointedly ignoring Eileen. She couldn't deny that he loved the boy. She had broken down and wept the first time she had realized that she was jealous of her own child. 

 

 

*****

 

 

By the time he was nine months old, Toby had already learned to shout "Da!" whenever Tobias would come home. He'd lift his arms to be picked up,  absolutely delighted to be held by his father. It made sense. He saw Tobias so rarely. 

 

Tobias wished he could spend more time with his son, but he just couldn't stand to be in the house at the same time as Eileen. 

 

 

*****

 

 

Toby was two years old the first time he did magic. 

 

Eileen was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, and Tobias was reading the paper in the living room. Toby was sitting by his feet, playing with the floppy, raggedy stuffed tiger that was his favorite. Tobias had gotten it for him for Christmas, even though money was tight, and the child had hardly let go of it since. 

 

Eventually though, Toby decided he would rather play with his father than with his tiger. 

 

"Up, Da," he asked. 

 

"Not now, Toby. I'm reading the paper."

 

"Up now," Toby insisted. 

 

"I'll pick you up when I'm done with the paper."

 

Suddenly, the paper was gone, and Toby was looking up at him, arms stretched out. 

 

"No paper. Up."

 

Tobias recognized it for what it was immediately. Without thinking, he struck Toby, and the child fell backward onto his bottom. 

 

Eileen heard the crash and came running. She looked between Tobias' horrified face, and little Toby, who was sitting on the floor, sniffling, lip starting to wobble, tears welling up in his big, dark eyes. There was a red spot forming on his right cheek. In an instant, she was scooping him up and holding him tightly while he cried. 

 

"What is wrong with you?" she screamed at Tobias. 

 

He stood and made a move to go toward her, but stopped when she jerked Toby away from him, putting her body between them. 

 

"Don't you touch him!" she shrieked. "Don't you dare touch him again!"

 

Her face was wild, and Tobias stepped back, putting his hands up. 

 

"I didn't mean to!" he shouted back, and Toby began wailing in earnest. 

 

"You didn't mean to? _You didn't mean to?_ " Eileen repeated, mocking and incensed. "You backhanded our son across the face _by accident?"_  

 

"He made my paper disappear!"

 

"I don't care what he did!"

 

"He did magic!"

 

"He doesn't know any better!"

 

"He's just like you!"

 

Eileen pressed her lips together, seething. 

 

"Go," she commanded, tilting her head at the front door. Tobias made no move at first. "Go!"

 

He left. 

 

Eileen carried Toby into her bedroom, setting him on the edge of the mattress as she rummaged through a dusty wooden chest and pulled out her wand. With a flick of her wrist, the bruise on his cheek was healed. 

 

It was a month before Tobias returned. It took three more after that before Toby would go near him. None of them ever saw the stuffed tiger again. 

 

 

*******

 

 

Things were better for a while. Tobias seemed to genuinely regret what he had done. Eileen had been right. The child had no idea he'd done anything wrong, and probably had no control over it whatsoever. He couldn't blame the kid for something he didn't know about. 

 

He tried to make it up to the boy, and so he'd been coming home regularly, to spend time with his son before he was off to bed. 

 

Currently, he was trying to teach the five-year-old the rules of poker. 

 

"See here," he said, pointing out the 5, 9, 2, jack, and 10, all of hearts. "If I have all five cards of the same suit, I have a flush." 

 

Toby tipped his head to the side. "I thought it was called a straight."

 

"Not quite. A straight is when all the cards are in order by number. They can be any suit." He picked up the flush of hearts and began dealing out new cards. "Now, what do I have in this hand?"

 

Toby scrutinized the cards, a frown of concentration on his face. "Two pairs. Of sevens and queens."

 

"That's my boy!" Tobias exclaimed. 

 

Toby grinned at the praise, displaying the gap from a missing front tooth. Even so, he looked so very much like his mother then. His nose, his eyebrows, and his forehead all matched Tobias' features, but he smiled exactly like Eileen. 

 

Tobias looked away, his good mood vanishing. 

 

 

*******

 

 

A few months later, Toby learned he was a wizard. He'd done magic before, many times, actually, although none of them around his father. But he'd never asked about it until then, never seemed to realize anything was out of the ordinary. 

 

"Mam," he began, as he was sitting at the table, halfheartedly picking at his plate. He'd eaten the bit of leftover meat, but he stayed well away from the cabbage. "Why doesn't Da have a wand?"

 

Eileen, who had been using her wand to do the wash up, stopped what she was doing at the unexpected question. 

 

"Why do you ask?" she stalled, hoping Toby would become disinterested in that line of questioning.  She knew how Tobias would feel about it. 

 

"Because using a wand is easier, but Da always does things the long way. Did he lose his?" he asked earnestly. 

 

"No, sweetie, your father never had a wand."

 

"Oh."

 

_Please Toby, don't ask._

 

"Why not?"

 

Eileen sighed inwardly. 

 

"Because he can't use one. He isn't a wizard, he can't do magic." She cringed. It was more than she meant to say, but the words seemed to be coming out like a ball of twine unraveling. 

 

"Is that why you don't use yours when he's here? Because it wouldn't be nice since he can't do it too?"

 

_But Merlin, if he isn't perceptive._

"Yes, something like that."

 

"But you are a wizard, right?" 

 

"A witch, sweetie. Boys are called wizards, girls are called witches."

 

"Oh. Can I do magic?" Toby asked eagerly. 

 

Eileen nodded. "You can."  Toby opened his mouth, and Eileen spoke before he could ask the question. "You'll get your wand when you're older. Most witches and wizards get theirs when they're ready to go to Hogwarts." 

 

_Oops_. 

 

"What's Hogwarts?" Toby, predictably, asked. Most kids were curious, but Toby seemed to have a propensity to want to know... absolutely everything. 

 

"It's a school, Toby. I have a book you can borrow to read, if you want to know more."

 

Toby immediately brightened. 

 

"Really?"  

 

"Only if you finish your cabbage," she told him sternly. 

 

"But I hate cabbage."

 

She raised an eyebrow at his whiny tone. 

 

"It's your choice."

 

He sighed, but dutifully began shoveling great big forkfuls of cabbage into his mouth, gracelessly, until his plate was cleared, scowling the whole while. 

 

"Can I read that book now?"

 

_Never was there a child more excited by the concept of reading_ , Eileen thought fondly as she summoned one of her old school books.  _Little brat is after my own heart._

 

She handed it to him, and he beamed, giving her a quick hug before scampering off to curl up in the armchair, nose buried in the book. 

 

She knew she should have kept quiet about magic, but at the same time, she didn't have it in her to lie to her son, not about something so ingrained in who he was. Tobias would, of course, be furious with her. Too late, she realized he might be furious with Toby as well. It was now a matter of time before Tobias found out. She could only hope she had done the right thing. 

 

 

*****

 

 

It was on one of the rare occasions where the three of them sat down to a meal together that it happened. 

 

"Mam, what House were you in?" asked Toby. 

 

Tobias didn't understand the question. Eileen, however, knew exactly what her son was asking, and, feeling a bit imprudent and defiant, answered it against her better judgment. 

 

"I was Sorted into Gryffindor."

 

"Sorted?" asked Tobias, frowning in confusion, "What's Gryffindor-"

 

"And Da didn't go to Hogwarts because he's a Muggle?"

 

And suddenly, Tobias did understand. 

 

"Yes, Toby, that's correct," said Eileen stiffly, mentally ticking off the seconds. 

 

"You called me a Muggle, did you, Toby?" he growled. 

 

Toby nodded, a bit hesitant. 

 

"Bloody hell are you talking like that for?" 

 

Toby flinched. He hadn't at all expected to get yelled at. 

 

Tobias rounded on Eileen. 

 

"I suppose you taught him that?" he demanded. 

 

Eileen had gone white, and she twisted her serviette between her fingers. "I- I'm not going to hide things from him, Tobias," she insisted, even though she was trembling. 

 

Toby's eyes darted from his father to his mother rapidly, and he began to feel afraid. 

 

"So you decided to teach him to be one of your kind? Thought he should be like you?" Tobias sneered. 

 

Eileen looked sullen, but she persisted. "I told him the truth. That is all."  Her eyes begged him, _drop it, Tobias._ He ignored it. 

 

"Fucking hell, Eileen! I knew you were a little shit, but this?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You had no right to tell him.  Fucking. Hell." 

 

"Stop it," Toby pleaded, but they didn't seem to hear. 

 

Tobias stood up harshly, the legs of the chair scraping over the floor. 

 

Eileen stood too, and Toby crouched low in his seat, trying to disappear under the table. 

 

"He has every right to know! It's part of who he is!"

 

Tobias leant across until his face was close to hers, loudly slamming his hands down on the tabletop. Toby ducked out of his chair and fled to the corner of the room. 

 

"What he _is_ ," Tobias yelled, "is the son of a bitch and an abomination!"

 

Tobias walked around the table until he was in front of Eileen. She backed up, trapped between him and the wall.

 

"Stop it!" Toby shouted, but no one would listen. Tears slipped from his eyes, but no one noticed. 

 

"He is your son!"

 

"He is no son of mine! You made sure of that, didn't you?" Tobias raised a fist. 

 

Eileen cowered against the wall, throwing her arms over her head and shutting her eyes. 

 

Tobias turned and punched the wall. He stormed out of the house. 

 

Eileen drew in several long, shaky breaths, rubbing her face with both hands. Then she slipped away and shut herself in her room. 

 

Toby stayed in his corner, still crying quietly, feeling utterly invisible. 

 

 

*******

 

 

When Tobias would show up, if he showed up at all, it was always late at night, and he was usually drunk. 

 

Sometimes, he just passed out on the sofa. Other times, he'd start awful screaming arguments with Eileen, and Toby would cover his ears, and wish with all his heart that it would _stop_ , until he learned to slip off to his room. He could still hear them, but it was fainter, and he got better and better at ignoring it. 

 

Eileen, too, spent most of her time in her room. Occasionally she'd come out to make meals. Mostly, Toby helped himself to cold leftovers. He even learned to tolerate the cabbage, because sometimes, there was nothing else. 

 

 

*****

 

 

He was seven years old when he decided he didn't want to be called Toby anymore, didn't want to be called the name that was like his father's. He told his mother. She suggested he go by his middle name. He agreed that it was acceptable. 

 

 

*****

 

 

He was nearly eight before Tobias even realized. 

 

Tobias come home early in the day, something he almost never did, while Eileen was out for the shopping, something she almost never did. 

 

He'd heard the door squeak open and closed from his room, and thinking it was his mam coming home with the groceries, had made his way down stairs to help put things away. He was surprised to see his father sitting on the sofa. He stood in the doorway, pushing the dark hair out of his eyes to stare mistrustfully at the man. 

 

Tobias whistled. "You oughtta get that hair cut, boy."

 

He could tell just from his father's voice that he'd been drinking, but he didn't seem quite so belligerent or delirious, so perhaps he wasn't completely drunk. 

 

"I don't want to," he said mutinously. 

 

"It's indecent."

 

"It's not."

 

"Whatever. Do any magic lately, Toby?" 

 

He fixed his father with a peevish glare. 

 

"My name isn't Toby. It's Severus, now."

 

"Is it?" Tobias scoffed. "Guess you really aren't my kid, eh?"

 

Severus pressed his lips together. 

 

"You probably aren't even mine by blood. Bet your mother fucked another man, and uses magic to make you look like me so no one can see her for the whore she really is."

 

Severus' nostrils flared, but he didn't take the bait. He knew from experience he'd regret it if he did. 

 

"Bet she wouldn't stay with you if I weren't really yours," Severus returned with as impressive a sneer he could muster. Truthfully, he was feeling very rattled, and wanted nothing more than for his father to leave.

 

Tobias snorted. "Possible. Guess she's fucked us both over," he laughed bitterly. 

 

"Why are you here?" Severus asked, growing more agitated and nervous by the second. 

 

"Why are you? Shouldn't you be out playing with the other kids? Do they not like you or something?"

 

That struck a nerve, and Tobias knew it. Severus blinked rapidly, and focused on his breathing. 

 

"Shouldn't you be working?" he asked once he was sure he could speak without crying. 

 

Tobias swung his feet, dirty boots and all, up onto the sofa and leaned back against the arm. 

 

"Nope. Off work for a while. Get used to seeing me around, kid."

 

The door opened and Eileen walked in with the groceries. She looked at her son, and then Tobias. 

 

"What are you doing here? Severus, get away from him. Don't you dare talk to my son while I'm not here!"

 

"I'm fine, Mam," Severus insisted, but she could tell Tobias had upset him. 

 

"Upstairs, Severus."

 

"Really, I'm fine-"

 

"Upstairs."

 

He went. 

 

 

*******

 

 

He was nine when he figured out he could leave during their arguments. He'd found a way to open the door without the hinges squeaking, and he knew which boards creaked. They never even noticed he was gone. 

 

It was better outside. He didn't have to hear the shouting rage of his father, or see his mother cower from him. Both made his lip curl. His father was an abrasive bully, but he was a Muggle. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why Eileen wouldn't just hex him a good one and have done with it. He thought, at least, that Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, and not... not _weak_ , and _helpless._ No witch or wizard should allow themselves to be pushed around by a mere Muggle. Severus knew that if he were allowed to use magic, he'd never let anyone push him around, especially not his father. 

 

He could do a fair few things with magic, he thought miserably. Like transfigure clothes that fit him, or conjure a decent meal. He couldn't make his parents care about him, but he'd take what he could get. 

 

The river he sat by was noisy and dirty and it smelled awful, but at least he didn't feel the same visceral sense of being trapped that he did inside. 

 

If he was lucky, one of the neighborhood strays would come by. There were a number of cats in Spinner's End who belonged to nobody, and Severus was quite fond of them, and for some reason, they actually seemed to like him as well. 

 

A small orange and white cat that he hadn't seen before walked by, and he held out his hand. 

 

"Hullo, there," he said quietly. 

 

The cat froze, and he was afraid he'd startled it, that it would run away from him, but it turned its head and gazed at him for a long while, as if assessing him. Then it ran over to him and nudged his hand, practically demanding to be pet. 

 

Severus laughed and scratched the cat's ears. She was scrawny and old, her fur was matted in places, and her purring sounded more like a harsh wheeze. She rubbed her cheek against his too-short jeans and meowed. 

 

"I know," he told her. "Nobody wanted you, either."

 

 

*****

He very quickly began to go farther and farther from Spinner's End when he slipped out. He stopped even trying to avoid the squeaky floors or open the door quietly. His father usually wasn't home, though he sure as hell wasn't working, and if his mother even noticed his absence, she didn't mention it. Half of him was glad she didn't. The other half wished she would. 

 

He'd made a friend after all, though he didn't dare tell his father she was a witch. It was bad enough that Severus wasn't a proper boy, with the overly-long hair that he refused to cut, his penchant for the domestic duties of cooking and cleaning, and his only friends being girls and cats. He supposed he was a bit odd, but he also suspected his father would find any reason to poke fun at him. 

 

 

*******

 

 

When he finally arrived at Hogwarts, he'd known exactly what House he wanted to be in, and he'd been so devastated when the Hat mentioned that he'd make a fine Gryffindor, just like his mother. 

 

_Please no. I don't ever want to be trapped and afraid like she is. I want to be more than that._

 

" _Ah_ ," said the Hat. " _But your mother_ is _brave, and you will realize it someday. But if you're sure, with your ambition and keenness, better be_ Slytherin!"

 

 

*****

 

 

When he'd arrived home over the summer, he'd been apprehensive. He had no desire to ever return to Spinner's End, to the dilapidated little house at the end. Even if Potter and Black were obnoxious, it was worth putting up with them to be at Hogwarts. 

 

But he couldn't deny that he was looking forward to seeing his mother. He'd missed her, and if he was honest with himself, a tiny part of him wanted to see his father, too. 

 

Lily's parents had picked him up from the station, and he had walked back from the playground. When he knocked on the front door, he was surprised to be greeted with a hug from both parents. He hadn't been hugged by either of them for so long he had forgotten what it was like, and he felt a bit like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. 

 

The kitchen, when he entered, wasn't quite as dirty as it usually was, and his mother handed him a plate of hot food. When his father also took a seat at the table, Severus raised an eyebrow, a bit lost, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

 

The silence as they ate was somewhat awkward. Tobias wasn't drunk, Eileen didn't seem so withdrawn, and Severus had been gone for nine months. 

 

"Did you, er, did you get a job, or something?" Severus asked his father. 

 

Tobias grinned lazily. 

 

"Sure did. A damn good one, fixing car engines." He pointed his fork at Severus. "I ought to bring you by some time, show you what's what. You'll have to find work when you're older, and there ought to be something you know how to do."

 

Severus stared at him owlishly. 

 

Sure enough, Severus spent the summer learning the ins and outs of Muggle automobile mechanics. 

The other guys laughed at Severus' hair and asked if he was a hippie, but they seemed to like him pretty well. They were particularly impressed that he didn't balk at the hard, dirty work, but excelled at it; he'd always been good with his hands. Even Tobias was impressed. For the first time that Severus could really remember, his father was proud of him. 

 

 

*******

 

 

When he saw his mother's face at the station after returning from his second year at Hogwarts, Severus realized his summer would not pass as smoothly as the previous year. She was pallid and gaunt and she hardly spoke a word to him. Severus suspected his father was drinking again, and resigned himself to yet another round of long days spent dodging arguments. 

 

Tobias was never home. Eileen was, but it was like she wasn't. Severus was worried about her, but she spoke to him so infrequently as it was, he didn't want to jeopardize those occasions by bringing it up. 

 

Severus spent a lot of time at the Cokeworth Public Library with Lily, finishing homework and finding the best Muggle fiction novels. She would invite him over for dinner frequently, and he would always go. The Evans family, at least, had food on their table. 

 

 

*******

 

 

The next summer was much worse. No one greeted Severus as he walked in the front door. It was a bit disappointing, but Severus was used to being alone. He was prepared to deal with that, and with being hungry and dirty. 

 

He was not, however prepared for his father to be home for dinner. 

 

He started on the cooking himself. His mother was still in her room, and he knew she wasn't going to do it. He was nearly through chopping the potatoes and carrots for stew when she came down the stairs. 

 

As Severus turned to speak to her, Tobias came through the door. He looked between the two of them, saw Severus with the knife and vegetables, and began shouting at Eileen. 

 

"The hell are you letting him do that for?"

 

Eileen flinched terribly, and Severus saw. 

 

"Are you so incapable of caring for yourself that you've got to have your son doing women's work?"

 

Eileen was shaking her head but she didn't respond. There were tears in her eyes and she looked terrified. 

 

Severus carefully put down the knife and eyed his father warily. 

 

"It's fine, Da. I wanted to do it, she didn't make me," he said, in what he hoped was a placating way. 

 

"You shouldn't have had to! She should've done it already, the good-for-nothing-"

 

"I said I wanted to!" he pleaded. Eileen was still silent, hand clamped over her mouth as she sobbed. 

"I like cooking. Really."

 

His father looked him up and down with an appraising look, and Severus knew he would never measure up. Tobias curled his lip. 

 

"Pathetic," he said disdainfully, and stormed up the stairs. 

 

Severus stood for a long time, staring at the spot his father had disappeared. Eileen didn't move. 

 

Severus finished the stew, even though he knew he wouldn't eat it. 

 

*****

 

 

"Why don't you just leave him?"

 

Tobias was out, working, drinking, Severus didn't care. He'd cornered his mother as soon as she'd ventured out of her room. 

 

She froze, and Severus thought she might not answer, but he crossed his arms and waited. 

 

"I can't," she finally said quietly. 

 

" _Can't_? Can't, or won't?"

 

"Severus, please," she begged, "you don't understand-"

 

"What don't I understand?" he cried. "Why won't you just leave? He's just a stupid Muggle, Mam, you don't have to let him control you. You've got a wand, you could-"

 

"I love him," Eileen whispered. 

 

Severus gaped at her. 

 

"What difference does it make? You can't stay here. And- And what about me?"

 

Eileen didn't say anything. Severus searched her face, but she'd closed off again.

 

"Fine," he said. He swallowed thickly. "Fine."

 

 

*******

 

 

The letter came near the end of his fourth year. He sat on his dormitory bed and stared at the ink until the words blurred together. 

 

She'd been very sick, they said. There was nothing they could do. 

 

_But why_ , thought Severus as despair welled up in him. _Why, why why_.

 

He crumpled the letter in his hand, and flung it as hard as he could. He threw himself down on his bed and pulled the covers over his head, utterly miserable.

 

He didn't cry. 

 

 

*******  

 

 

"It's all your fault!" he screamed as soon as he stepped inside and saw Tobias. "If it weren't for you, she would have been fine! She wouldn't have died if you hadn't-"

 

His father's fist collided with his face. He stared, horrified, panting in pain. He was too shocked to move, too shocked to process what had happened. He was more afraid than he'd ever been in his life as he watched his father's impenitent face. 

 

"Not another word," Tobias growled, "Do you hear me, boy? Not another word."

 

Severus nodded jerkily, blood running down his chin. He was shaking, and he couldn't speak. He watched, devastated, as his father wiped his knuckles and turned away. 

 

He cleaned his face with a damp rag. Nothing was broken, he thought, but it stung fiercely. And as he washed the last of the blood from his hands, the tears did come. 

 

 

*******

 

 

He didn't come home the year after that. He'd made a small amount of money by tutoring at school, and he used it to support himself. 

 

He stayed, as often as he could, at the Railview Hotel. Other times, he made do. As sure as he was that the Evans would offer to have him stay, Lily wasn't speaking to him, and truth be told, he didn't think he could handle seeing her. 

 

He practically lived off of cheap fish and chips, as often as he thought he could get away with. As he ate the cold, tasteless potatoes and soggy fish, he realized he would give anything for a bowl of hot cabbage soup. 

 

 

*******  

 

 

The last time Severus saw his father, he was seventeen years old, and legally able to use magic. 

 

He knew Lily would disapprove, and the thought left an ache in his chest, but... she wouldn't possibly understand. How could she? Her family might be Muggles, but they loved her. Her mother made it a point to send her letters and take her out for her birthdays and cook her favorite meals, just because. Her father had certainly never hit her. 

 

Severus clenched and unclenched his fingers around his wand. He drew in a breath and stepped into the house. 

 

Tobias was slumped on the couch. He was dirty and he reeked of liquor. 

 

Severus pointed his wand at him. 

 

"Get up."

 

Tobias shifted and opened an eye. 

 

"Toby?" he asked, voice slurred from sleep and alcohol. 

 

"No," said Severus, voice hard. 

 

Tobias sat up and eyed the wand aimed at him. 

 

"You wouldn't," he told Severus, sounding a lot more sober and callous than before. 

 

Severus lifted his head to meet his father's eyes, willing himself not to look away. 

 

"I wouldn't? Why not, what's stopping me?" he challenged. 

 

Tobias sneered. 

 

"You're a coward. You always have been, just like your mother."

 

Light flashed from Severus' wand and Tobias screamed in pain. 

 

"I think not," Severus said softly. There was fear in Tobias' eyes, and Severus felt a thrill. He smirked. "I'm afraid I take after my father."

 

"What do you want? Are you going to kill me?" Tobias watched Severus' wand, hunched over, drunk, and nervous. 

 

Severus felt contempt and pity. He snorted. 

 

"No. I am not a murderer. I _want_ as little to do with you as possible. I _want_ you to leave, and never come back!" He took a breath, and regained composure. "And you will. Now get up. And go." He lifted his wand. 

 

Tobias immediately stood and stumbled toward the door. He hesitated, however, before opening it. 

 

"If I _ever_ see you again," warned Severus. His throat worked. "I might just reconsider."

 

He locked eyes with Tobias. His father nodded, face anguished, and walked out the door. 

 

Severus lowered his wand and realized his hands were shaking. 

 

 

*******

 

Severus, twenty-two years old, stood in the darkness, the tip of his wand illuminating the headstone before him. He stooped and placed a single blue starflower on his mother's grave, then righted himself and turned to the one beside hers, so new there wasn't even grass growing over the packed earth. 

 

As little as a year ago, he would have imagined he'd spit on the grave of Tobias Snape. Now, however, looking at the engraved name of his father, he just felt tired and empty. He'd already lost so much. The death of his father, on top of everything, seemed so bleak, so final. Severus didn't have the energy to hate him nearly as badly as he wanted to, and he could only regret the way things had been. 

 

He wondered, briefly, if there was anything at all they could have done, if things could have been different, better, or if the stars had planned misery from the start. 

 

With a last glance at his parents' graves, he _Disapparated_ into the night, for the first time really, truly alone. 

 


End file.
